Snatches of awesome
by takitaka
Summary: Random moments from Prussia's life. Features Poland, Lithuania, Russia, different POVs, different time sets, and same old Prussia through it all.


A/N Set of as interesting as unusual prompts turned into this. This is only part one of two; I have four more prompts to go, and since all of them will be with Poland and probably very much shippy (I always wanted to write some actual Prussia/Poland!), I'll put them as next chapter. When they're ready, that is.

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><p><strong>LithuaniaPrussia- ****waking ****up ****totally ****snuggled ****up ****to ****each ****other ****after ****night ****of ****drinking!**

**Bonus: ****Liet ****bites ****Prussia ****on ****the ****neck**

Or what Poland apparently would like to see, and why Lithuania gets urges to crush people's property with a tank

There was something.

SOMETHING meaning something beyond the pain and the throat-scratching dryness in his mouth and the feeling of being ready to throw up if he only moved his head too much. Dear goodness, why did his hangovers always have to be so cruel? What did Poland name it— a punishment for taking a break in drinking? Yeah, right.

He didn't want to move, didn't want to _wake __up _in the first place and definitely didn't want to feel like crap for the rest of the day, even if he knew that it was pretty much inevitable. He tried to remember what happened yesterday to get him to this pathetic state, but intense thinking just hurt too much now and wouldn't Poland be just delighted? And what was Poland doing in his head right now anyway, for god's sake, he couldn't be free of him even in his hangover, that was just too much—

Something stirred beside him and it thankfully made his brain come to a halt, bringing it at the same time to his first train of thought after waking up— _something_. Something by his side and all over him and him all over this something, warm and soft and hard in all the right places and— breathing?

Prussia groaned _right _into his ear. Lithuania's whole body jerked as that heartless sound drilled deep into his skull and he shoved his knee right in Prussia's groin— but he honestly didn't mean to!— making him groan again, even more pathetically than before.

What didn't make it any easier for Lithuania's poor head.

Unfortunately Prussia, once he got started, wasn't about to just shut _up_.

"Gott...!"

And his mouth was still right by Lithuania's ear, in fact brushing it every time his lips moved, and now that Lithuania focused a little better he realized he felt hands on his back. And his right leg wasn't as much between Prussia's thighs as both of them were just tangled with Prussia's own.

Well, that was—

—_definitely_ not as bad as a stream of German curses that floated right into his head yet _again_. He breathed out, eyes squeezed shut and head throbbing in pain.

"Could ya pwease shut _up_?"

He couldn't even get his tongue to work properly... How was Prussia doing it? He would be jealous if he didn't have other much more urgent things to think about, like how to make himself move. Though maybe his slurred words had something to do with how his face was pressed to Prussia's shoulder.

It'd be _really _good to start moving right about now.

"How the fuck am I s'pposed to shut up—" Prussia started again and Lithuania did move his head then, risking throwing up and flipping the whole world, but at least now the words didn't wander directly into his abused ear.

Even if he ended up with his nose against Prussia's neck.

"Imeanit" he forced through clenched teeth, irritated and miserable beyond belief, imagining himself crushing Prussia over and over again with a tank. Or at least Prussia's car that he drove with to his place that was actually Germany's car and why was he even getting into the details?

Prussia— Lithuania couldn't believe it for _life_— actually dared to laugh then. With that annoying, horrible, _stupid _"kesesese" sound.

Not thinking about anything any longer, Lithuania sank his teeth right into the skin of Prussia's neck, what maybe wasn't the brightest idea he'd ever had since Prussia wailed in pain, but it was _oh _so satisfactory.

And made him feel only a little bit guilty when it turned out later that Prussia laughed simply because murmuring into his neck tickled him.

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><p>Google "Vilnius tank mayor" for some explanations.<p>

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><p><strong>Poland- <strong>**Failing ****to ****Anon ****and ****getting ****his ****ass ****kicked ****by ****Prussia**

Or happy communist family times

"You _can't _like, do that!"

"But I can!"

"But that's not _fair_!"

"Do I look like I give a shit?"

Prussia was grinning a little too hard for it to be possible or at least like, not painful, at least in Poland's opinion. But he _was _grinning like that, on and on and Poland was so very tempted to scratch this expression off Prussia's face, preferably with his nails or a sandpaper.

Prussia waved the letters right in his face.

"I have no idea how he didn't realize yet, you suck at this! _Anonymous __from __Warsaw, __Poland_?"

Poland made rather desperate move to get his letters back, his cheeks hot, but Prussia just laughed and held them away.

"If I did he'd know by now! You're so full of shit, oh my god, I can't _believe _you're gonna show him—"

"I don't have to" Prussia drawled lazily, looking through Poland's letters of misfortune that also included some very interesting, if silly, threats. "It's fun watching him squirm over this, really."

Poland wondered if it was possible for anyone to glare their eyes out or something because he sure as hell felt about to do so.

"Then give them back and stop being even bigger jerk than usual!"

"No way! I don't have to, but I _can_, you know."

Poland stared. Prussia didn't lose his grin.

Finally— a groan.

"Ugh. What do you _want_?"

Prussia's face looked definitely too eager all of a sudden.

"Cigarettes. And I know you need to have some sort of sausage savings—"

"I do not!" Poland protested instantly because damnit, that just really wasn't fucking fair!

It turned out to be a mistake, though, since Prussia only smirked at this, totally mean.

"So what about some toilet paper?"

Poland stormed out of the room only to be able to slam the doors, since with his letters in Prussia's hands they both knew he had to come back anyway.

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><p>Toilet paper was scarce in Poland during communist times.<p>

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><p><strong>RUSSIAPRUSSIA, ****CUDDLING**

Or reminiscing happy communist family times

"What the _fuck _are you doing?"

What he wanted to actually know was how the fuck had he gotten himself into this situation just so he could do _everything _and more to avoid it in the future, just avoid it forever.

It still wasn't worth the embarrassment of asking _him _that, though.

Strong, massive arms held tight onto his chest and one of his own arms, allowing him only to claw helplessly and quite hysterically at the couch, trying to get enough of a grip to pull free. He was almost, oh gott, he was almost on his lap, this just couldn't get any worse...!

Russia giggled into the back of his neck and he had to suppress a shiver.

"An embrace between friends! I miss the way we greeted each other before, it was so nice!"

Oh yeah, tight hug and a passionate kiss, _it __really __wasn't __something __he __wanted __to __remember_.

"Fuck you! Let go of the awesome me, or I, I swear—"

He tried to kick, but then Russia _squeezed_ and fuck fuck _fuck_ he was so getting his bones crushed and that was _it_.

It was time for drastic methods. He really didn't mean to do this at first, but Russia just left him no choice!

He took a deep breath and—

"_WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSST_!"

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><p><strong>POLAND- GETTING PUNCHED HARD IN THE ARM<strong>

Or it could have happened anytime, really (maybe it is happening now?)

"OW!" Poland said, because it was "ow" indeed.

He got punched in the arm.

It was horrible. It hurt. It could leave a bruise. Bruises were so not fabulous. They were kinda gross looking, at least Poland thought so. And they hurt. When someone touched them, for example, and his arm was that kind of place that liked to get pressed against stuff, so touching was totally inevitable and why, why anyone would do that to him?

"Why would you do that to me?" he asked.

Prussia looked at him with his red, red eyes, and he never looked quite so devilish.

"Because I'm evil," he snapped.

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><p><strong>PRUSSIA- BOUND AND GAGGED<strong>

Or happy Commonwealth times strike!

He couldn't talk, he was gagged.

He couldn't move, he was bound.

It was all very much unawesome.

Maybe if he WANTED to not be able to talk and not be able to move it wouldn't be quite so, but he actually rather fancied both of those abilities and he didn't find the situation he, well, found himself in, any good.

It was all Poland and Lithuania's fault.

They were bad and horrible and should be ashamed of themselves. Even if he did somewhat peek on them. When he shouldn't. When he very much shouldn't, but it was also their fault because they were _Poland __and __Lithuania_ and he just so couldn't imagine them having sex at all—

(Poland not going "eeewwwww!" at some of the things, despite his obvious fascination with penises and really, what the fuck was with _that_?)

(And Lithuania actually relaxing enough to do anything that wasn't worrying his stupid pagan head off, that was pretty much _unimaginable_—)

But now, that he was _bound __and __gagged_, he was there, looking at them kissing, touching, _stroking_ and making all kinds of inappropriate noises together.

And they weren't paying him any attention. Any at _all_.

He tried to make himself look away, to close up his ears or something, but it was just not possible with them so obviously there and too horny and busy with each other to even bother with taking their activities — or him! — somewhere, anywhere else.

Or maybe they just didn't have mercy. That could be all elaborate revenge too.

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><p><strong>POLAND- ARRESTED FOR VOLUNTARY MANSLAUGHTER<strong>

Or what am I even supposed to do with a prompt like that

They both stared at the table, their faces carefully blank, although for completely different reasons.

Poland was trying to come to terms with the situation, and the thing his brain was currently busy with was: processing. And it was taking him quite some time. One could say he was in some sort of a shock, although it wouldn't be completely true— it was just one of his Poland-states, when he had to think about something hard and intensively.

Prussia, on the other had, was simply in despair.

There was his pride, his work, his _child_, squished flat against the surface of the table, looking pathetic and _lifeless_ and _whose __fault __it __was_?

He was done with his blank state way before Poland was.

"W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

There was a yell and a very satisfying sound when he slammed Poland against the table, bringing his face close to his— _victim_.

He was honestly surprised it was so easy, but then Poland probably didn't expect it at all.

"HEY, don't you— are those _handcuffs_? Hey!"

Only Prussia already had them closed and secured around Poland's wrists and his struggling was pretty much useless now, even if his babbling didn't become any less annoying.

"I mean seriously, who carries around a pair of _handcuffs_—"

"They're West's," Prussia tried not to sniffle and then suddenly straightened up, years and years of watching TV (and maybe also being subjected to some arrests himself on occasion) paying off. "You have the right to remain silent! You—"

"YOU have no right to HANDCUFF ME!" Poland snapped, trying to kick his legs and damn it, Prussia forgot that even when you got Poland down, it was a challenge to _keep _him there.

"I do too! You're arrested for voluntary manslaughter!"

Poland became completely still.

Prussia blinked distrustfully and braced himself.

The stillness didn't last as long this time; maybe Poland just gave up on trying to make sense of the situation.

Prussia seriously was of the opinion that for once _he _could be the incomprehensible one.

"But it's a _paper __chick_!"

"WAS! It _was_ a— and he had a _name_!"

Poland let his forehead meet the table with a rather dull "thud".


End file.
